SATURDAY WITH PENNY
by Tribeca
Summary: Sheldon didn't plan on kissing Penny that Saturday. It wasn't on his schedule...


A/N: Just a quick little one shot that I needed to shake out of my brain. Nothing that probably hasn't been done before, just fluffy Shenny because...well...you know.

**SATURDAY WITH PENNY**

He hadn't planned to kiss her that day. It wasn't on his schedule and he never conducted a day without adhering to a very strict and well thought out schedule. Kissing Penny was not on his schedule at all.

It was a Saturday like every other Saturday. He would do what he always did, play a few video games with the boys, do a little research and scribble on his white boards and try not to think about her too much. But first he had to deliver the package that he had signed for the day before.

He followed her established protocol, waiting until precisely eleven am. That was her rule. She giggled when she flung the door open to find him perched in her doorway, forearm raised high, protecting his throat from a possible punch (he had no clue that she'd never really punch him no matter what he did), and a cardboard box pulled securely to his chest.

"Good Morning Penny," he said, then pointed out to her that it was indeed the designated time he was permitted to knock at her door.

"Oh yay," she enthused, taking the box from him, "Come in and look at these Sheldon. It's materials for my Penny Blossoms!"

He followed her into her apartment after turning to close the door behind them. He watched in amusement (though his face twitched and he pointed out to her how unsafe she was being) as she used a kitchen knife to stab and cut at the packing tape until the box popped open. She spilled its contents out onto her kitchen island and rubbed her hands together with delight.

"Look how pretty!" she squealed, plopping down on a barstool and motioning for him to come closer.

He was already taking note of something very pretty, but it wasn't the pretty contents of the box that captured his attention.

She picked through the brightly colored pile on the counter top consisting of fabric, fake gems and glitter packets. He stood close behind her, not caring a whit about the cheap and tacky stockpile of material in front of her. Instead, he reveled in the excuse she had given him to stand so close. He breathed in her scent and crammed his hands deep into the pockets of his pants so they wouldn't try to touch her without his brain's permission.

And just as he had his hands (and other parts of his body if the truth were told) under control, his lips made a move that they had no business making. They dropped down to her shoulder that he hovered just above and made contact, just an inch to the right of the thin strap of the pink camisole that covered her upper body. They smoothed across her taut skin, his tongue hesitantly slipping out along the path his mouth was forging.

He froze. She froze. When he regained the ability to move, his first instinct was to back away and for the second time of the morning to lift his arms and cover his throat. She swiveled around slowly, still on the seat, and smiled at him (wait, she was smiling, not swinging her fists?).

"Finally."

"What?" His face crimson, his eyes wide.

"I've waited so long for you."

She reached for his hand and pulled him towards the sofa. She pushed him down into the blue cushions; his eyes remained fixated on her. She sank down beside him, her closeness holding him spellbound.

"I want more," she breathed out, her eyes locked with his.

"This won't be easy," he said, touching her because now he had her consent.

"I know but it'll be worth it. You are worth it."

"How long?" Because he had to know.

"Since the first day."

"Myself as well," he confessed.

"Your plaid pants and your white board made me smile. But it was your eyes…mostly your eyes. And I knew then that you were the one."

"But…Leonard?"

"A mistake," she looked down, regret flushing across her face.

"I always knew it was."

She laughed, "You said as much."

"The two of you…you aren't together now, right?" He was a terrible liar and knew he'd be an even worse cheater.

"No."

"I'm not very well versed at…romance."

"I…I like that."

"It's an asset?"

"Oh yes, it's an asset."

He pulled her close, trembling as they shared their first kiss; worried he wouldn't be as adept as the ones before him.

She sensed his trepidation and assured him she liked his kiss just fine. He believed her when she shifted her body over and onto his, into his lap, straddling his hips, inches from his face.

"We can practice all afternoon if you want," she whispered to him, running her fingers through the soft cropped hair that she had yearned so desperately to touch for years.

"I want," he sighed, "I definitely want."

That unplanned, unscheduled Saturday afternoon with Penny became the one he would remember for the rest of his life.


End file.
